Untitled and Undirected
by Callie Catastrophe
Summary: Just your simple unlikely couple looking for their purpose in life. DISCLAIMER: I do not own all scenarios mentioned within, I DO however own Pudge, Callie, and any other characters unless otherwise noted. Be advised: Strong language.
1. Chapter 1

[Untitled

"I have a purpose in life? Hardly." The girl sighed as she doodled across her notebook, the pages covered in loopy orange writing. The class had been assigned to write a paper on just that; their purpose in life. Or rather, what they thought the purpose of humanity was. So far, Callie had drawn a blank. She slowly lowered her head, her nose brushing the paper, and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. As the hour came to a close, there were chairs scraping on the checkered linoleum, which shook her out of her mini-stupor. Slowly gathering her things, she looked out the window. A grey sky, rather typical where she lived, hung drearily over the tree line. Slinging her bag over one shoulder, she dragged her feet towards the cafeteria building.

People were shoving, inhaling food, and yelling about their days, all stressing to be heard. Callie sat at a table alone, writing over and over, the same phrase in her notebook. 'Callum Elise Rayson is not a proper name for a girl'. Not even a week had passed at Brentwood, and already, she'd been made the laughing stock of the Junior class. Just as she was thinking about packing up and heading for her dorm, a tray slammed down across the table from her. The culprit? A boy from her English class, one with a rather scrawny build, and smurf-colored hair. He was new, a Junior, just like her. "You lost or something?" Callie asked, feigning agitation. She wasn't used to people sitting with her unless the entire cafeteria was occupied, which this late in the afternoon, clearly wasn't. He looked at her and smiled weakly. "Sure, I'm lost. But then again, so is everyone in this pathetic labyrinth," he said, not dropping his gaze from her emerald green eyes. "So, what brings you to my pathetic circle of discontent?" Callie asked, scrawling her name across her notebook once again. "Well, first of all, I'd hardly call this 'discontent'," he said, "and secondly, my name's Brian." Callie looked up, a completely disinterested look on her face. "Well, it's not anymore. I think I'll call you . . . 'Pudge'," she said with a sense of finality. Yes, Pudge was an excellent name for him. A perfect opposite of what he truly was.

"So, Pudge… what do you do for fun?" Callie had now begun folding random slips of paper in front of her into various shapes. When he hadn't responded, she attacked with another question. "Why are you stuck at 'the Wood'?" She continued with the stereotypical 'tell me about yourself questions', until he finally got fed up, and said "What is this, twenty questions?!" And then shot her a question of his own. "Why is your name Callum?" She dropped her pen and glared at him. "Don't talk to me," she said, getting up and walking towards the door. "Oh, come on, quit being a fucking baby," he said, abandoning his stuff to follow her. She quickened her pace, but he still followed her, up a flight of stairs, down three corridors, and down another flight, all the way to her door. He got to her, just as she was slamming the heavy door. "Talk to me. Now." Pudge said, attempting to sound dominant. Callie paused, the door only open a crack. "Mortis adveho ocius quam unus would puto." She whispered, shutting the door slowly.

The next morning, as Callie slipped into the cafeteria, trying to go unnoticed, she found Pudge already occupying her usual table. "Iterum, have vos non philologus?" Callie asked, throwing down her bag. "Cut the bible talk," Pudge said irritably. She shot him a glare, and said "Don't confuse an age-old language with a work of fiction, please." He just stared at her, spinning his notebook on the table. "Okay Pudge, since you insist on being my 'friend', then I guess we should make an effort to be . . . 'friendly'," she said, pulling out a beat up composition book. "First off; my name is Callum. Don't question it. It's a rather stupid story," she began. "If it's so stupid, why won't you just get over yourself and tell me then?" he said, yanking the book away from her. With a horrified look on her face, she said "Bastard." Pudge flipped through the worn pages, some of the ink faded, crimson spots dotting some pages. "You are quite a headcase, aren't you Callie?" he said, shutting the book and passing it back to her. "Listen, let's knock off classes for the morning, and go to my room. There's something I want to show you," he said calmly, his gaze locked onto her green eyes. Callie nodded, and left, turning towards the boys' side of the dorm circle. Pudge waited a few minutes, so as not to appear stalker-ish, and then got up to walk toward his dorm.

When he approached his door, he found it already open, and her sitting on his bunk, a thick leather bound book in her hand. "What are you doing?!" Pudge shouted, crossing the room in two strides and yanking the book from her hand. "Just getting some insight before I got too close…" she said smirking. "How the fuck did you get in here?!" he said, still slightly agitated with her. She grinned, and held up a credit card. "Oldest trick in the book. . ." He said, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, remind me why we're here?" Callie asked, lying back on his bed, lolling halfway off of it, like a discarded ragdoll. "Right, why we're here…hmm. I guess it's because I want to maybe be your FRIEND?" he said, somewhat irritable. "So then, why am I a headcase then?" She asked, sitting up and reaching for the sleeve of his hoodie. "I read most of it," she gestured towards the book, that now lay abandoned on the floor. "You seem to be just a TAD bit more fucked up than I." He grinned, and yanked his hand from hers. "You don't know the half of it."

After a few minutes of awkward silence, he sat beside her on the bed. Her attention had become focused out the window, where early afternoon sun had finally broken the dense grey sky. "I want to play." She said, a childlike grin on her face. "What?" he looked at her with a deterring look. "You heard me, she said, standing up and grabbing his hand. "Let's go, Pudge."

He followed her, still with the same expression. As they hit the damp grass, she kicked off her sneakers, and did a handspring. She hit the ground giggling, seeing him still standing at the edge of the walkway, still looking horrified. "Don't be such an asspie!" she laughed, brushing herself off. "I'm not doing that." He said, shying away from her grass-stained hands. Again, she grabbed his hands, and yanked him to the grass. She spun him, and laughed. Eventually, he let go and laughed himself, but there was something plastic about his laugh. It was as if he was only humoring her. She abruptly stopped, causing them to both hit the ground quite hard, neither of them expecting the sudden impact. "Jesus Christ!" he screamed, making sure he was fully intact. "What the hell were you thinking?!" She looked at him, a wry smile on her face. "Not much of anything, to be honest," she laughed, catching her breath, she said "But now that your heart-rate is up. . ." and giggled. She jumped up and spun around like a haywire ballerina. He watched her for a little, until she fell down again, this time staying on her back, her eyes fixed, unblinking on the pale blue streaks of sky peeking through the clouds. Pudge got up and walked over to her. "You dead or something?" he asked, annoyed at her bouncy disposition. "Not even close," she said smiling, reaching up for his hand. He yanked his hand away, and stared at her. "Get up." He said simply.

A few weeks had passed, and the two awkward friends growing less and less awkward, until one afternoon, when Callie was sure she'd broken Pudge's shell. She came into his room[which she had recently demanded a key to, despite his protest and found him on his bed with his head between his knees. It didn't take much for her to deduce that he had been or was still crying, his shoulders quivering slightly with the deep breaths he'd been taking to calm himself down. "Pudge?" She asked, her voice calm and sweet, but still her normal sing-song overly happy tone. "Are you okay?" She placed a hand on his shoulder. When he didn't flinch away, she was amazed. "Pudge." She whispered, sitting beside him, "Tell me what happened." He shook his head, and simply said "They're all fucking assholes." She looked at him quizzically, and pulled him into a hug. "Who are, Pudge?" she asked, rubbing his back and holding him close to her. "There's always a reason why we end up going to boarding schools, right?" he said, looking up at her, his gaze once again meeting hers without faltering. She nodded, and wiped a single tear from his cheek. "They almost drove me to fucking suicide there," he said, fighting the quickly returning tears. "The 'rents didn't know what to do with me…so they sent me away, hoping the change of scenery would do me good." He said, a weak smile on his face. As if reading his mind, Callie smiled and said "I bet they had sunshine back at home though." He put his arms around her and laughed. "Yes, actually they did. It was actually possible to get a sunburn."

As late afternoon sunlight peeked into the window, Pudge had dozed off, his head still pressed into Callie's chest. She stroked his hair as he slept, his breathing slow and even. The late afternoon gave way to twilight, and twilight to a magnificent [and rare star-filled sky. Pudge awoke to find Callie curled up at the foot of his bed, sucking her thumb, sound asleep. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and the sudden warmth made her jump awake. "I'm sorry!" he said quickly, embarrassed from waking her up. She smiled, and grabbed his hand. "Wanna see something that's a rare beauty here?" she said, pulling him towards the door. He followed her, and the cool night air hit his face, causing him to shiver. As they looked up into the sky, she pointed to various constellations that could only be seen because of the lack of light on the campus. She hugged close to him, shivering in the autumn breeze. Pudge smiled down at her and kissed her, holding her close to him. He knew this was the beginning of something beautiful.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two, of Sorts…

[Lessthanthree

Late afternoon light cast long shadows over the grass. Under a leaf-bare tree, two figures sat, whispering and laughing. The girl leaned against the tree, and the boy rested his head on her leg. She stroked his now fading blue hair, and they sat and talked about anything they could think of, punctuating their conversations with giggles and Latin phrases, which always resulted in more giggles. The question still pressed both of them. 'Just what is my Great Perhaps, my reward at the end of the Labyrinth?' plagued their minds constantly. She stopped stroking his hair a moment, he opened his eyes. "Why'd y-" he began, but was cut off by her raising a finger and hissing 'Shh!'. "When was the last time you actually cared about something enough to completely follow through?" she asked him, staring into his soft blue eyes. He shook his head.

"Well…you're about to," she said, getting up abruptly and pulling him to his feet. "It's time to find your Great Perhaps, Pudge." He stared at her, wondering what inside her had snapped this time, causing her to suddenly care about the future, and changing it for the better. They ended up in his dorm, her lying upside-down, and writing frantically in a notebook, and him sitting on a chair, looking at her cluelessly. After about an hour of watching silently, he ventured a question. "Cal…what are you doing?" he asked, watching her face go from flushed to red as the blood rushed to it from her choice of position. "Silentium, letalis," she said harshly. She sat up, only to fall back down again, the quick movement resulting in a head rush. "It's close enough to finished, just wait," Callie said, rolling over and scribbling a little more. He watched her intently.

"Finished," she said, slamming down her pen. "So?" Pudge looked at her quizzically. "Welcome to your Great Perhaps," she smiled. "It's all laid out, it's all here," she said happily. He stared at her, clearly completely clueless. "Just read," she said, sighing and lying back. He looked over the pages, and his face fell. "You have to be kidding me," he said, throwing the book to the floor. She looked at him, her face showing deep hurt. "What's wrong with it?" Callie asked, leaning down to retrieve the notebook. "Everything!" he began. "We have no money, and half the shit on that list? We succeed? And we're FUCKED." She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Fuck…you…" she stammered. Callie got up and walked towards the door. Pudge made no effort to stop her. "Fine, leave. Take your books, and your philosophy, and your singsong happiness!" He screamed at her as she slammed the door. He sighed and looked at the grey rain falling beyond the window. The only faint remnant of Callie's recent presence was her hoodie, lying in a heap on his bed. He looked at it, and his face fell. He picked up the hoodie, and buried his face into it, the smells of damp grass, cinnamon, and cherries hitting him like a slap in the face. He had sacrificed his safehold. By hurting her, he let go of the one thing tethering him to the straight path out of the labyrinth. "What did I do….?" He asked himself, sinking to the bed, his eyes slowly filling with tears.

Callie lay in her bed, face pressed to the pillows. Having spent so much time in Pudge's room, she'd forgotten what her own was like. It was an unfamiliar ceiling. Somewhere she felt unsafe and threatened. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she lie there, watching the rain. Until it grew dark, and she had no choice but to sleep. "Vestri diligo est a recubo…" she said, rolling over and crying herself into a dreamless sleep.

By the time Callie awoke, it was midafternoon. She would have slept clear through the day, had someone not knocked on her door. "Gimme, fuggin…minute…" she uttered, sure it was Pudge's sorry ass that stood behind the door. When she opened the door, she was shocked awake. "Uh…good morning?" she stammered. Callie looked to the floor. The tall blonde boy loomed over her. It was Miles; the class rep. "Cutting class again Rayson?" he asked. Callie shook her head. "I was…ill," she said, her gaze fixed on the floor. "What about the other nineteen times?" he asked accusingly. "And why is it that Master Brian is also absent each time you are?" she looked at him and smirked. "Give me my bulletins and leave, shithead," she said, reaching for the papers he held. "I know you want the gory details, but I'm afraid there are none, so get on your fucking way," She smiled, having just told him off. "It ain't over, bitch," he said, winging the papers into her room.

Pudge lay in his bed, his face stained with tears. He still clung to the balled up mass of black fabric that was her hoodie, her familiar scent now faded from its depths. He thought about apologizing, but she WAS a headcase. He considered some of her hair-brained schemes, and the times she'd been so serious, only to dissolve into giggles. He remembered her stroking his hair and speaking Latin to him while he dozed in the shade of the dead grey tree. He thought about her, always being full of hugs and bubbly optimism. Now, he'd abandoned her. What if her smile was to remain a constant look of discontent? What if her once-pleasant air was replaced by a mundane almost 'normal' person? What if her bright personality had lost it's shine? As he leaned his head back, he whispered, " I love her."

In a short period of time, Pudge was showered and dressed. He set out for the courtyard, to the gnarled leafless tree they'd always sat under. He opened his notebook and scribbled away, creating his own take on the Great Perhaps, and the straight and narrow out of the Labyrinth. Around dinnertime, he saw her. She slowly walked past him, her face sullen, and her eyes still red with tears. Her flowing black skirt made her look like a shadow. As she glided past him, he grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him. He looked into her eyes, his stubbornness having faded the moment he saw her. "I'm sorry I didn't agree about the labyrinth…" he said, pulling her to him in a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around him, and smiled. Her normal, over-happy Callie smile.


End file.
